And they ask you about it.
If I were pregnant, and ready to tell people I was pregnant, I would just tell you I'm pregnant.
If I were pregnant, and not ready to tell people I was pregnant, I would tell you to take your tactless questions and place them delicately where the sun don't shine.
I'm I right here? I'm not pregnant, so I don't want to speak for the pregnant lady population, but I think people are overestimating my interest in creating complicated-pregnancy-diversions. I wouldn't go around writing blogs about quitting smoking and alcohol and posting the links to my facebook account where my entire network of family, friends and co-workers can read about it -- all as a cover for my pregnancy. That sort of behavior gets you the That-Bitch-Be-Crazy label and if you read yesterday's post, you would see I am shooting for moderate levels of sanity in 2011.
However, I realize I am raising some eyebrows. This became abundantly apparent yesterday when I told my mom about my Thirty Day Trial.
Me: "So I quit smoking."
Mom: "Really? That's great, honey."
Me: "Yep. Been about a week now. I also quit drinking."
Mom: [Silence]
Me: "You there, Mom?"
Mom: [Silence]
Pause. It is at this moment that the origins of the phrase "pregnant pause" become clear to me.
Me: "Mom??"
Mom: "Are you trying to tell me something, dear?"
When your mother assumes you are choosing a complicated pregnancy ruse over telling her the news she has been waiting to hear for long enough that she just went ahead and adopted the neighbors' kids as grandchildren -- that's when you know you have some things to clear up.
No problem: I am not knocked up.
These questions are infinitely better than being asked if you are pregnant when you are doing nothing to warrant suspicion.
This happened to me:
The week before teachers begin educating the youth of America for yet another academic year, we all come back to school a week early and set up our classrooms, plan lessons, and sit through interminable and brain-cell- deteriorating professional-development meetings.
One day, I walked into one of said meetings, and a colleague stopped me as I was walking to my seat.
Tactless Colleague: "Congratulations!"
Me: [Confused.] "On what? No longer having to advise the yearbook?"
Tactless Colleague: "No, silly! On your big news!"
Me: [Still confused. Cannot remember good news. Its been a boring month.] "Um, I, um..."
Pause. Why in the name of all that is holy did this woman not just stop right here? Why? Wouldn't you? Clearly she and I are not on the same page. Quit while you're ahead, dumbass!
Tactless Colleague: "You're pregnant!"
You don't say? Well I'll be damned...
Yep, you're right, Tactless Colleague, I am silly. I didn't even know I was pregnant!
I soooo wish I could tell you I had some really witty rebuttal to her stoopidity, but I was so shocked, I just said:
"Um, nope. Not pregnant."
However, she was not to be proven wrong. Ooooh no.
In most cases I applaud this kind of commitment to your stance, but in this case, I feel it could be construed as a tad bit foolhardy, no?
Tactless Colleague: "Well, I heard it from a few people..."
Me: "I would check your sources."
Do you see what happened there? Tactless Colleague believes Someone Else was a more credible authority on my uterus than me. Me. Owner of said uterus and arbiter of all things entering and exiting therein.
Un-effing-believable.
But would you believe that was the first time someone told me I was pregnant that week? Yeah. When I say "first time" I mean: There was also a second time.
And here's what I have decided: If ONE person congratulates you on your non-existent pregnancy, shame on them.
If TWO people congratulate you on your non-existent pregnancy, you need to lose weight.
When the second person congratulated me on the imaginary fetus, I had no comeback whatsoever. I stammered. I flubbed. I ran to the bathroom and cried about being fat like a teenage girl (in a high school, no less. What a regression...).
And obviously I thought of the perfect response well after the moment had passed. Duh.
However, a friend of mine did get to use it.
Friend's Tactless Colleague: "Congratulations!"
Friend: "On what?"
F.T.C: "On your pregnancy!"
Friend: "Oh, no I'm just fat."
loving this entry! i recently gotten married, and the first time I spoke to my grandmother after the wedding, she excitedly asked if I was pregnant yet. We spoke 5 days after the wedding. And just a few weeks ago, I gained about 5 KGs (damn Christmas cookies & pudding)and I haven't seen this friend for a while. 2 minutes into bumping into her, she went ecstatic and asked when I am due! *smacks face*
ReplyDeleteAnyhoo, loving your blog!
It's ok. People think I have a 6 year old. Your life could be worse.
ReplyDelete